May It Be So
by Talking Hawk
Summary: A sort of religious story of Sam, and some of the other members of the Fellowship, in pre-mortal life, waiting to go to Middle Earth. Currently first in a series of four. No slash.


May It Be So  
  
By Talking Hawk  
  
Author's Note: Hello, peeps. Just in case you forgot to read the summary, this is a story about the Fellowship before, well, they went to Middle Earth. It takes place in Heaven (called "Here"), so the story is kind of religious – Christian, even. This isn't to offend people who aren't Christian (I'm Mormon, just in case you were wondering…); it's just me imagining what pre-mortal life might have been like (by the way, the characters have different names in this fanfic, so here's a little list to make things easier). Oh, and the poem's mine (there's two versions of it – an English version, and the slightly Japanese/gibberish version…yeah…). Enjoy, whether you're Christian or not…  
  
Galennedor – Frodo  
  
Esthmus – Sam (speaker)  
  
Karthos – Merry  
  
Maddock – Pippin  
  
Vadeem - Boromir  
  
Everything is so white and beautiful. I have been here for an eternity, but the splendor of this place never ceases to amaze me. No houses exist here, for we need no place to sleep and eat – because we simply do not. I do not know why; I suppose only mortals need such things. And we, my friends and I, are not mortal – yet, anyhow.  
  
I gaze about. There is not really "anything" here; this place is just one vast room, without wall nor ceiling. A vaguely outlined sun shines in the distance, and warms me. A slight breeze tossles my sandy curls; from whence it came, I also do not know. I smile as I look upon my friend Galennedor, who is currently passing the time, scrawling upon a writing tablet beneath one of the area's few trees. He looks off somewhere, and smiles. He won't be here much longer.  
  
Wearily, I approach him. Aware of my appearance, he looks up at me, and smiles as he brushes his brown bangs out of his eyes so he can see me clearly. I try to smile, but I suppose that I only frowned. I suppose he also saw the sadness that must have filled my eyes. Only one thought concerns me: why did he have to go?  
  
"What troubles you, Esthmus?" he asks, concern filling his voice. He set down the writing tablet, and gazed up at me worriedly. I sigh, and sit down across from me as he focuses all of his attention upon me. I look away, feeling a bit awkward.  
  
I wonder if I can back out of the conversation now, but as I'm pondering this, I glance at him out of the corner of his eyes. He hasn't blinked. I feel a bit guilty for distracting him from his writing, so I decide to speak truthfully. "You leaving…" I utter, lowering my eyes. Though I don't look up, I sense him frowning.  
  
"What about the matter?" he asks, and if possible, sets his attention more intently upon me, hanging upon my every word. I sigh again, and finally scrape up enough courage to look at him in the eye. He seems slightly taken back by this, and I respond, melancholy in my tone, "What if they're unkind to you? What if something goes wrong? What then, Galennedor?"  
  
To my surprise, he chuckles. "Oh, Esthmus!" he exclaimed, setting his hand on my shoulder as he laughed at my worries as if they were grains of sand that could merely be swept away by a faint breeze. "You worry much too much." He shook his head, a smile still on his lips. I blink at him stupidly, and he continues more gently, "I'm going to a fine, respectable hobbit couple. Remember? Drogo and Primula Baggins!" Of course I remembered. I have heard of nothing else for the past fifteen years.  
  
You see, Here – I don't know this place's rightful name – has leaders that choose to whom you will be born to, and when. About ten to twenty "years," as is the appropriate time measurement in Middle Earth, before the person's appointed birth, one of the men in charge will tell you to whom and to what race you will be born into. Before you find this out, you attend classes that inform you of the cultures on earth – an overview, if you will. When you are finally told who you will be in the next life, you take courses that will train you in the ways of that particular race.  
  
I, personally, felt the whole thing was ridiculous. All these years of diligent studying and training will be for nothing, for when you "pass through the veil" – as they say – you have no recollection of this life. So then why, I ask, do we have to take these confounded classes? One day, I had the inclination to ask one of the teachers this, and he replied after a slight hesitation, "Well, we never know if you forget everything when you are born. Something may, quite easily, stick in your head." Right. And birds can fly…or maybe they can. I haven't been doing very well in my studies of late.  
  
Anyway, back to the present. Galennedor was soon going to be born as a hobbit. I knew he would be a good hobbit, except for the fact that they usually aren't very well educated. I figured that he would overcome that obstacle; he was so smart. Whenever I look back upon my memories of him, I will imagine him sitting under a tree, reading a book or writing something – just like I had found him a few moments earlier.  
  
"I just have a bad feeling," I said, closing my eyes, and shaking my head. "'Bout what?" he inquired, and I opened my eyes once more, fearing that if I snap them shut again, tears might begin to flow. "That second cousin of yours…Bilbo Baggins."  
  
"What about him?" he asked naively. Did I have to explain EVERYTHING? "His accursed ring!" I exclaimed, glaring at him in annoyance. Why couldn't he just understand me? "It is Lord Sauron's old ring," I growled. "He's had the accursed thing for ten years! Something wrong's BOUND to happen." It was true – all of the people of Here had watched the ring carefully since its creation, and we had all watched the hobbit Smeagol turn into the ghastly creature Gollum. It was a matter of time before Bilbo would meet the same ill fate.  
  
He glared at me with my same ferocity. "That's not true! He can beat it; I know he can." My dear friend was in denial. Ever since discovering that he would someday be a part of the Baggins family, he watched each member with great interest. He had a particular fascination for Bilbo, who was certainly peculiar when compared to other, more average hobbits. Galennedor's fondness of Bilbo grew especially as he traveled to the Lonely Mountain, meeting up with such men as Gandalf and Thorin on his journies. It was easy to tell that he was looking very forward to being able to live amongst, and meet, them all.  
  
His excitement had almost been annoying as the years turned into months, then weeks, then days. It was perhaps only hours away that he would be leaving now.  
  
I was about to call him a fool when we were interrupted by a familiar voice. "Galennedor! ESTHMUS! How's it going?" We looked up, now more surprised than angry. Our eyes rested upon two other men, both grinning. One had his arms crossed and feet parted, a devious gleam in his eyes. He apparently knew that we had been fighting, and had purposedly intervened, disguising the meddling by friendly interest in us. His companion, whose elbow rested on the first's shoulder, was childishly oblivious to our predicament.  
  
The man with the crossed arms was Karthos, and his companion was the somewhat ignorant Maddock. The latter had been the speaker. Maddock grinned in amusement of himself, and inquired, "Galennedor, aren't you *excited*? You're about to be born!"  
  
I glanced at my friend out of the corner of my eye, and I managed to catch him blinking. He shook his brunette head, apparently distracted by some worrisome thought in his head – probably our argument.  
  
"Oh, well, yes…" he replied rather unenthusiastically. Maddock frowned, and said, "Well, if it were *I*, I would think I would be a lot more excited than THAT!" Galennedor chuckled in embarrassment, and apologized, "I'm sorry, Maddock. Just caught me a bit off-guard, I suppose…" I knew better.  
  
"Greetings!" another voice called out. Another man appeared, this time with short, uncurled blonde hair, and a carefully shaved beard. It was Vadeem. He grinned as he approached us, and though Maddock was a close friend of his, the latter looked upon him with a slight jealousy. Vadeem had gotten his assignment twenty years early, and it was a position that was worthy of being coveted – the first son of the steward of the human city of Gondor, Denethor. Karthos, however, didn't really seem to mind, and greeted his friend warmly.  
  
"Hey there," Karthos said, and Vadeem nodded. Maddock narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the future human, and Vadeem blinked in surprise. "Is there something wrong?" he inquired, and Maddock shook his said. "No, nothing at all," he muttered, and reassumed his stance at Karthos' other side as to put some distance between him and Vadeem. I sigh. Nobody was in a good mood anymore.  
  
"So…" Karthos said uneasily, trying to ease the tension. "Esthmus! How are your ork studies with Professor Smarian going? I had him last year. He's tough, isn't he?" "Yes, yes," I say absently. I didn't like this small talk much. Honestly, I just wanted everyone to leave – including Galennedor. I wanted to be by myself.  
  
My wish was granted sooner than I thought.  
  
"Galennedor!" a voice echoed. It was a woman's voice. Our group of friends looked about, trying to pinpoint the person. Out of a cloud of mist, a woman wearing a violet dress and a lighter shawl strode over to us, holding a wooden clipboard. She was tall and thin – even more so than most of us were. Here, there weren't really tall and short people – or races, like in Middle Earth. Everyone Here had rounded ears, and basically, the same build. It was easy to tell, however, that this woman was unusual.  
  
She flipped her long sandy blonde hair over her shoulder, and rested the clipboard on her hip, beginning to tap her foot impatiently. We blinked at her, and Galennedor lifted an eyebrow. "…May I help you?" he finally asked, and she nodded her head with a look of exasperation upon her face.  
  
"You most certainly can. It's your turn, my boy!" My head swiveled to look upon Galennedor, who gulped. It couldn't be – it was too soon.  
  
"A-are you sure?" he stammered, and I turned to the woman, a fearful look in my eyes. It couldn't be – it was much too soon!  
  
"Yes, I am quite sure," she said, rather tiredly. She took my friend's arm into her hand, and heaved him to his feet, somewhat against his will. The woman began dragging him away, saying, "Step to it. Your mother's waiting!"  
  
"B-but!" he protested, trying to dig his heels into the floor. I looked upon him and the woman with horror. "It's not time yet! I have to say goodbye FIRST!" He grabbed the back of Vadeem's shirt, and quickly became stretched between the pair like an elastic spider's web.  
  
"WELL," she growled, "you'll see them soon enough." She turned about, and seized Galennedor's arm with both her hands, gritting her teeth with the effort. "YOU…WILL…COME…NOW!!" The last yank created a ripping sound, and before anyone knew it, Galennedor was sitting on the ground, his free hand holding a piece of Vadeem's torn short. The future human only blinked in surprise.  
  
Before my friend could recover from his startlement, he found himself being pulled across the ground, his hand still clutching the piece of torn white material. His back sliding across the floor, he looked up at the woman and exclaimed, "Isn't there another way?? I need but a moment to say goodbye!"  
  
"Oh…FINE!" she exclaimed, releasing her grip upon him, panting. She wasn't used to such reluctant clients. Galennedor scrambled to his feet, and immediately put a distance between him and the woman. He ran up to me, and nervously glanced back over his shoulder to make sure she wasn't coming after him.  
  
I couldn't help but chuckle. I had never seen my companion so frightened of such a silly thing as a woman. Why, when I go down to Middle Earth, I'm sure *I* won't be one of those poor fools who are afraid of girls…  
  
"Esthmus?" he whispered quietly, glancing over his shoulder once more. "Do you think we could take a quick walk?" "Uh," I said, "sure…" Still unnerved by the woman, he linked my arm in his, and walked off some distance.  
  
"So…" I finally said after quite some time had passed, glancing back at the group we had left, "what is on your mind?" We stopped, and he looked into my eyes, an apprehensive look in them. "Esthmus…I lied." I blinked in surprise, and inquired, "Of what?" It was too odd a thought for me to comprehend. Him? Lying? They just didn't go together.  
  
He lowered his eyes in shame. "Of…being scared." He looked at me again, his eyes shimmering. "Because I am." I smiled gently, and took his hand into mine, patting it soothingly. "No need to fear." He was quick to protest, "But you SAID-"  
  
"It was nonsense," I assured him. Lying and me, on the other hand, did sometimes go together. "You have NOTHING to worry about…"  
  
To my surprise, he burst into tears, rubbing his eyes with his fists pathetically. "But it'll be SCARY down there!" he bawled. "I'll be a wee little hobbit amongst humans, elves, and orcs. Furthermore, I won't be able to remember ANYTHING!" I frowned, and replied, "Well, it's not like hobbits leave the Shire, y'know…"  
  
"STILL!" he cried out, shaking his head as he continued to cry. "I- I…I won't have *you* with me!" I was a bit taken back by this. I didn't think he had seen it in that light, as I had…  
  
"Well…" I spoke slowly. "I honestly don't know what to say to that, because it's true." He looked at my with his teary eyes, and I smiled, trying to comfort him the best I could. I placed a hand onto my chest, and said, "But you and I will always be here."  
  
He sniffed, and I pointed my finger, pretending like I was going to poke at his own heart, but at the last second, snatched his nose instead. He laughed, and freed his nose from his hand. He wiped his hands over his tear-streaked cheeks, and chuckled some more. I smiled, and spoke seriously, "No need to fear, Galennedor… No need to fear." Hesitantly, he nodded, and I put my arms around his shoulder as we began to walk back towards the group and the tree. It was time for him to go.  
  
Suddenly, words filled my ears. The others were…singing. Singing in our language.  
  
'Galennedor  
  
Ashita wa malu  
  
Ontunga to manukaga ato  
  
Kinyoubi ni wakarimasuka  
  
Jina po latooanga  
  
  
  
'Matsu on sanoon  
  
Chikaga mo aturi  
  
Wakunga la kasoon  
  
Inun to ranin  
  
  
  
'Galennedor  
  
Ashita wa malu  
  
Ontunga to manukaga ato  
  
Kinyoubi ni wakarimasuka  
  
Jina po latooanga.'  
  
* * *  
  
The next week passed by very slowly – painfully so. Vadeem, Karthos, and Maddock did their best to keep me detained, but there was no overshadowing the truth of the matter – my best friend was gone.  
  
One morning – if you call it that, for there was never night Here, I was escorted to the only building I knew of in the place – The Assignment Center. There were other services dealt with there, but I was in utter bewilderment. Why would I be asked to come here?  
  
Uneasily, I entered a large office, and was met by a man with long brown hair and glasses. He wore long white robes, and extended a hand to an empty chair across from his desk. Shyly, I took the seat.  
  
He set down himself, and smiled. "Greetings, Esthmus." The man set his elbows on the desk before him, folding his hands. For some reason, he looked at me with great interest. "I do not know if you know of me, but I am the Assignment Giver." I blinked dumbly, and he chuckled, opening a drawer and drawing out a small vanilla folder.  
  
"You have a most interesting situation," he said, opening the folder, and un-paper-clipping a sheet of white paper from it. He readjusted his glasses, skimmed over the neatly typed paragraph on the page, and looked up at me once more. "You have two choices." The most intelligent thing I had to say was, "Huh?"  
  
If I had understood him correctly, he meant that I had two choices of whom to be born to. This NEVER happened.  
  
He smiled, apparently amused by my disbelief. "It is something unheard of, I know," he said in understanding. "But this is a decision I need you to make." "Um…" I said, shifting myself in my chair uneasily, "…what are my choices?"  
  
"Oh, yes, of course…" he said, feeling a bit foolish. I smiled, now the one who was amused. The man said, regaining his composure, "Your first option is to go to a lovely, if I do say so myself, elvish couple, who just so happen to be the lord and lady of a kingdom." He paused, looking at me with a smile, expecting me to say something. I lifted an eyebrow, and said, "…And…?"  
  
"And…" he said slowly, "your OTHER option is to go to a hobbit household, but-"  
  
My eyes must have lit up at the word "hobbit." "And they live in the Shire?!" I demanded, excitement pulsing through my whole body. Only one thought came to my mind – Galennedor. "Well, yes…" he said, his words stretching like a cloud being blown in two directions.  
  
"Then may it be so!" I cried out with joy. "I will take it!" He was completely flustered by my response. In his astonishment, he knocked over his cup of water with his arm, wetting all the papers on his desk. He picked up the papers frantically, trying to save them from this certain doom. I blink in surprise. What was the matter with him?  
  
After recovering what documents he could, he exclaimed, "I do not believe you know what you're getting yourself into!" I raised an eyebrow, and inquired, "How do you mean?" "Well," he began, "even though your, and everyone else's, life isn't entirely planned out, you will face great trials if you take this assignment."  
  
"May it be so," I said simply, shrugging my shoulders. What did it matter? I would see Galennedor again!  
  
He blinked at me in absolute shock. "But you would be destined to take the path to Mt. Doom with a certain Frodo Baggins, and face almost certain death. Is this a risk you would be willing to take??"  
  
I crossed my arms in determination, and nodded my head. "May it be so." At least I would be with Frodo, once Galennedor… The rest was irrelevant.  
  
Critically, he leaned across his now dry desk, looking straight into my eyes. "And YOU would be willing to risk all this, and accept the consequences, no matter what they might be?"  
  
With equal sternness, I gazed back into my eyes. Slowly, pronouncing each word carefully, "May it be so."  
  
Taken aback by this, he slowly slunk back, leaning back in his chair in a daze. Ever slowly, he opened his desk drawer, and drew out a stamp. After fumbling for a moment, he removed its top, and pressed it onto the piece of paper before him. In blood red, it said, "Assignment Accepted."  
  
"May it be so…" he whispered, closing the folder, and gradually put it back into the desk drawer, amongst multitudes of other files, no larger or seemingly more important than my own. So it was said, and so it was done.  
  
* * *  
  
"Please wake up soon, Mr. Frodo…" I whispered, caressing the other hobbit's hand. I sat in a chair that was much too big for me, obviously designed for the rear and height of an elf. The Baggins laid in a large bed, wearing a white shirt one of the handmaidens had put upon him after Lord Elrond treated his Morgul blade wound. It hurt me so much to see him like this…  
  
Outside, it was a beautiful day. If I had been back in the Shire, I would have gone outside and pulled some weeds. I cringed at the prospect of Bag End being overrun with unsightly vegetation upon our return… IF we ever did, in fact, return.  
  
I heard eerie, yet beautiful, voices amongst the songs of the birds in the trees. I knew it was the elvish women singing, lamenting for Frodo, though he was not dead – and never would be, or so I hoped, perhaps in vain. I had the strange desire to get outside and join them. I strangely felt at home here, as if I belonged in this unfamiliar and foreign place… Like I was MEANT to be here…  
  
I stifle the call, however. I had to stay for Mr. Frodo. Somehow, he needed me to talk to him, to let him know that someone would be waiting when he returned from his slumber. I had to stay. I had to stay…  
  
I felt I had to sing to him, to keep him from falling back into a deep sleep, and forever leave me. A song came into my rhyme, though I had no idea from whence it came. The words, oddly foreign and, yet, familiar – like Rivendell itself – flowed from my mouth.  
  
"'Galennedor  
  
Ashita wa malu  
  
Ontunga to manukaga ato  
  
Kinyoubi ni wakarimasuka  
  
Jina po latooanga  
  
  
  
'Matsu on sanoon  
  
Chikaga mo aturi  
  
Wakunga la kasoon  
  
Inun to ranin  
  
  
  
'Galennedor  
  
Ashita wa malu  
  
Ontunga to manukaga ato  
  
Kinyoubi ni wakarimasuka  
  
Jina po latooanga.'"  
  
Somehow, however, I knew what the words meant…  
  
"'Galennedor  
  
I bid thee farewell  
  
And I look ever forward to our reunion  
  
On earth, your heart may you only tell  
  
To ones that love you such as I  
  
  
  
'Live ye forever with joy,  
  
Enjoy the sun's comforting beams  
  
Remember, my love for you  
  
Has seams that remain unseen  
  
  
  
'Galennedor  
  
I bid thee farewell  
  
And I look ever forward to our reunion  
  
On earth, your heart may you only tell  
  
To ones that love you such as I.'" 


End file.
